Bonus Scary Post

So I went in to say good-night to Peanut (Big Daddy is putting her to bed), where I found her with her doll, Emily. Only she'd pulled Emily's head off, stuck the plastic flag from her pirate ship in the hole, and dubbed her "Flag Head". "Flag Head" then had a conversation with Emily's head (how are you, I'm fine, would you like something to eat?) She protested mightily when I offered to put Emily's head back on her body.

Next year I won't bother dressing her up for Halloween, because she's freaky enough on her own.

Hallow-something

I forgot to get the digital camera back from the person who borrowed it, so I had to buy a cheap camera at the drugstore to take pictures of the cutest kitty ever! last night. So right about the time everyone is sick of looking at toddlers in costumes, you'll get one more!

We took Peanut to the assisted-living place where my grandfather lives. They were having trick-or-treat there, and can you really think of a scarier place? She stopped talking as soon as we walked in the door, and wouldn't as much as hold out her bucket to get candy. I don't blame her, what with the cheek-pinching by over-rouged women in bad wigs. Grandpa had forgotten completely that we were coming, so he greeted us in his underwear, and interrogated me about when he would see my father because he hadn't seen him in a really long time (two weeks, actually, but it might as well have been two years). Peanut started talking again non-stop literally as soon as we walked out the door of the place, and asked for candy.

The worst part for me is that I can no longer use the excuse of "Peanut can't chew well" in order to take her Tootsie Rolls for myself. I suppose it's worth her being able (if not willing) to eat normal food.

WHOYCBE

See this post for an explanation, if you don't read Beanie Baby already.

If I could, I'd invent an affordable robot chef, and damn it, the world needs
one because we'd eat better if we had tasty salads waiting for us each day.

I sometimes buy decorative candles and other tchotkes, because it they are more like the me I want to be than the me that I am.

If you came over to my house to play and touched my husband I'd be
a little bit mad at you forever.

The colour lime green makes me want to shave my eyeballs with a
cheese grater.

The colour lilac is so beautiful that when I see them, a
beam of light comes down and I hear a choir sing.

Mayonnaise makes me gag, feel it in my mouth for a minute, and
then swallow it back down rather than spit it out (or else I just don't like
it, but I'm too nice to say it.)

I might get sick or die if I touch or ingest spicy or peppery foods, or look at
mushrooms on a sandwich.

Ann Coulter gives me the willies and I might need to consider a
frontal lobotomy if I even think about it further.

I love the feel of freshly washed old sheets so much I want to hump it like a puppy on
a sofa pillow.

No one should have to watch me eat flan or creme brulee, because then I might
consider being polite enough to share, and I don't want to share it.

I'm a grown-up now, so I don't have to eat cauliflower any
more, and you can't make me.

If I could invent a way to permanently coat my nostril hairs with this
scent, I'd be my own biggest customer: Ginger Milk Bath by the Thymes, Ltd.

Three things I like that anyone might like: chocolate,
lilacs, kittens

Three things I like that almost nobody else in the world likes:
books on medical oddities, the smell of bleach

I have TOO MANY hand towels, and not enough
nice bath towels.

Okay, we know the best things in life aren't things, but these are the best
things in life if there are going to be best things: Fresh lilacs, peonies, and the smell of damp grass with my daughter playing in the yard.

When people have kind, sweet and nice things about me, they're usually
talking about my mothering. When they say I'm
bossy, they're usually right too.

It's true, I'm a lazy-ass. I'm learning to be
proud of it.

If I could have any talent in the world, I'd choose flying and use
it to save people from burning buildings.

You are given a day and a no-limit credit card to spend in one of these
places, childfree. Choose one, or write your own:

An auction, where you never know what you want until you see it, and then
you want it more than anyone. It's all about the adventure and the
atmosphere.

A picturesque neon-lit bar, where a couple of swank cocktails and a friendly
bartender might lead to a Chandler-esque story. It's all about becoming a
character yourself.

A craft show, because you really need to find something attractive to cover
your spare rolls of toilet paper with, and then, you want to maybe glue some
paper to some more paper. It's all about making and doing.

A gourmet food store, because you are what you eat. It's all about feeding
yourself and your soul.

A hoity toity boutique, because you'd rather have the experience of shopping
gracefully than anything. It's all about quality time.


Are you kidding me? You didn't give spending the day in a huge bookstore with a cafe and comfy chairs as a choice?


And here's the last chance to make sure that you're not going to get a
"Jelly of the Month" club membership when you're expecting your bonus for a
swimming pool:

It is important to me that the items chosen for me
make you happy to give, though I wouldn't object to them being ethically made and sold.

And

If I could suggest that you read only one post from my archives, this would
be it:

And

If I were to name the Holiday of my choice for this exchange, it would be:
Celebrate Winter in a secular fashion!

Interesting Facts

In the last few days, Peanut has informed me that:

A. Cinderella went to the ball in a submarine, not a coach, and

B. Little Miss Muffet must have been a little baby, because only little babies are scared of spiders.

This makes up for her decision to go as a kitty for Halloween, instead of the triceratops she'd been contemplating.

Also, it turns out that while petroleum jelly is water-soluble, this means little when half of a large jar of it is in one's hair, ears, nose, and all over one's face and hands*. It will in fact require more than one shampoo to get it out, and the tub will require extra cleaning to remove the residue from that bath.

But her skin is just fabulously soft right now.

*I was able to get her to stop crying and start laughing simply by putting a mirror in front of her face. Even she had to admit it was pretty funny.

To Sleep, Perchance To Have a Free Hand Or Two

My friend Nikki, who gave birth to the current cutest-baby-in-the-world titleholder (after the world's easiest labor, you don't even want to know), Madeline, needs some advice. The little darling refuses to sleep unless she is on top of someone. Not next to, on top of. Unfortunately, I didn't solve this problem for months with Peanut, even with the assistance of prescribed narcotics. Anybody have any advice for her? No, Anna and Dana may not answer this question, because you'll just scare her with your stories of children not sleeping. I need happy stories, people. Please?